


coldly

by soulshrapnel



Series: Villainous Kinktober fills 2020 [11]
Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Gen, Interrogation, M/M, Temperature Play, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:33:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26951449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulshrapnel/pseuds/soulshrapnel
Summary: Outdoors on a snowy world, Moff Gideon interrogates a prisoner.(Kinktober, Day 11: Temperature Play)
Relationships: Moff Gideon & Original Male Character
Series: Villainous Kinktober fills 2020 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947379
Kudos: 9
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	coldly

**Author's Note:**

> I was like "Why is there not more fic about Moff Gideon? Villainfuckers, we are FAILING THIS MAN."
> 
> anyway NOTE: this fic is neither about sex (though there is a mention of sexual assault in the narration), nor comedic, nor a depiction of consensual kink! It's literally just a random torture scene. If that's not what you want to read for kinktober then I totally get it & will happily direct you to the Back button.

The Republic agent struggled uselessly against the Death Troopers who had him by the arms, his breath puffing out visibly in front of him in the snowy air. Moff Gideon watched him dispassionately. He'd been accused of transmitting data on Gideon's operations to the Outer Rim's official law enforcement, such as it was - sufficiently sensitive data for his capture to have been brought to the Moff's attention. He'd made a break for it, trying to run to the snowspeeders behind Gideon's detention facility, but it had done him no good.

"I could simply have you brought back to the cell that awaits you," Gideon said calmly, "But if you'd rather be outside, we might as well begin your interrogation outside. Where is the transmitter that you used to communicate with the Republic?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," the agent protested. "I never sent any transmissions."

Gideon eyed the man with distaste. Back in the Empire's glory days, they would have had a better word for men like this. They would have called him _Rebel._

"Strip him," said Gideon.

The agent stared at Gideon, eyes going wide, and began to struggle again with a new urgency. "You can't- This is a _crime-_ "

Maybe he thought he'd be raped, though that wasn't where Gideon's interest lay, or maybe he found the cold itself cruel and unusual.

"This is Imperial territory," Gideon said coldly. "The only law here is the one I enforce."

He watched as the guards forced the agent's clothes off of him. With winter gear and a struggling prisoner, it took several minutes. Gideon stood still and watched without impatience. He had made relatively few concessions to the cold; the pilot's chestpiece and the cape hanging down from his shoulders were the same things Gideon always wore. It was important to be recognizable in a role like his. With the addition of a hood, thick gloves, and a pair of sturdier, fur-lined boots, the armor kept him tolerably warm.

The same could not be said for the Rebel, who was shivering visibly by the time the guards yanked his undergarments away and left him standing there naked. He had a decent figure, Gideon thought abstractly. He shifted from foot to bare foot, trying to find a stance in the snow that didn't hurt.

"Now," said Gideon. "there are two ways, and only two, for you to return to the warmth of your cell. Either you become so hypothermic that the shivering stops, or you tell me where you hid the transmitter."

"There isn't one," said the agent, desperation cracking his voice. "You're crazy."

Gideon made a sharp gesture with one gloved hand.

The guards recognized the command. With a shove, they knocked the agent down to land on his belly in six inches of snow. He thrashed, turning his head from side to side until he had knocked away enough of the snow to breathe. By then, Gideon had stepped forward. His fur-lined boot came down on the agent's shoulder, holding him down. The agent bucked, trying to push himself up, but to no avail.

At another gesture from Gideon, the guards bent down and bound the man's hands out of the way.

"It's up to you," said Gideon, "how long you want to stay on the ground."

The agent, still shivering and with his mouth half-full of snow, gave a groan of despair. Gideon had a feeling he'd be there for a while.

**Author's Note:**

> this is totally (not) what they mean when they say "step on me"


End file.
